


Who You Gonna Call?

by clgfanfic



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three detectives take on a haunted theater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who You Gonna Call?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Psychic Investigations Cubed #6 and later in Boss And Bodacious: Special Collection #1 under the pen name Lynn Gill.

**_ACT I_ ** _: Our tale opens at the Riptide, a modest sized sloop moored at King Harbor's Pier 56, Slip 7.  King Harbor is a quiet community of beach-loving individuals who like nothing more than to spend an afternoon soaking up the rays, playing volleyball, or watching members of the opposite sex stroll by.  Our heroes are no exception.  However, in order to continue meeting the slip rent, Cody Allen and Nick Ryder opened the Riptide Detective Agency.  The agency floundered until they brought computer whiz Murray "Boz" Bozinsky aboard, and then things began picking up…_

 

"I don't like it, and I don't think we should do it."  Nick Ryder folded his arms across his chest and looked at his two partners.  It was a losing battle, and he knew it.

"You're not scared, are you?" Cody asked, the slight smirk on his lips inviting Nick to rub it out with a well-placed fist.

"No, I'm _not_ scared," Nick defended himself.  "I just think it sounds like a long, dull night."

"Nick, if you're scared, I understand.  I mean, this sort of thing can make people very nervous.  In fact, the first time most people–"

"Murray, I'm not scared!  I just think the whole damn thing's silly, that's all."

"Well, I guess Cody and I could do it alone…"

"Look, do what you want, but–"

"Damn it, Nick, they're paying two thousand, five hundred dollars for ten hours!  Do you realize what that could get done around here?" Cody argued.

The dark-haired man sighed heavily.  They were wearing him down, Murray with his youthful enthusiasm and Cody with his mature practicality, and he knew he was going to hate it when they ganged up on him like this.

He looked at Cody.  "I know we could use the money."

"But?  You're going to say but, aren't you?" Cody argued back.

Nick sucked in a deep breath and said, "Look, I just want you guys to remember that I didn't want to do this, okay?  It sounds like a publicity stunt, and I for one would rather not look like a fool."

"You're going?" Murray tittered, his eyes wide and excited. 

"Yeah, I'm going, because if I don't you two will sit here and hound me 'til it drives me crazy!  I haven't done anything like this since I was eight years old!"

"Oh, boss!  I'll go call the radio station!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Guys?  Hey, guys!  Guess what!"  Murray scrambled up from below, his hands waving erratically.  "We're going in tomorrow night!  Isn't that great?  Wow!  I was really worried someone would beat us to it, but the station said everyone's left before dawn, forfeiting the prize.  We still have a shot if the people going in tonight don't stay!"

"'Everyone's' left?  Who's everyone?" Nick asked, knowing he was going to hate the explanation.

Cody leaned forward as Murray pushed his glasses up and said, "Well, so far five Phi Gamma Delta guys, an off duty police officer–"

"Wonder if it was Quinlin," Cody mumbled.

Murray looked thoughtful.  "Oh, I don't know.  They didn't say.  Should I have asked?  That would've been good procedure for a detective, wouldn't it, and–"

"It's okay, Boz," Cody interrupted gently.  "Go on.  Who else?"

"Uh, let's see," the slender man said, checking the small pocket notebook he carried, "two housewives who write mystery novels on the side, four professors from UCLA, and–"

"Stop, Murray, stop," Nick snapped.  "I don't want to hear any more."  He pinned Cody with a glare.  "I told you this was a bad idea.  Didn't I tell you?"

Cody smiled at his partner, hoping his own building hesitation was well hidden.  "Ah, come on, Nick, none of those people are trained like we are."

"What about the cop, huh?  You tell me about that," the dark-haired detective challenged.

"He was alone.  Your mind can play tricks on you when you're alone," Cody rationalized.

"Yeah?" Nick mumbled, "like mine is right now.  I can't believe I let you talk me into this!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you gentlemen taking up this challenge," Mr. Rothbottom said as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot on the steps of the Forty-Niner Theater.  "I hadn't considered private investigators."

The group watched as three police officers and their canine partners entered the building, making a careful sweep of the interior for any intruders.

"When I bought this old relic, I had heard the stories, but hell, all theaters have a resident haunt or it isn't a real theater," Rothbottom continued.  "However, when the construction accidents began I became less skeptical."

"You don't really think the place is haunted," Nick said.  "I mean, this is just a stunt to attract attention for the opening, isn't it?"

"No, Mister Ryder, it's not that at all.  I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the thought of the place actually being haunted hasn't crossed my mind over the last few months.  A few accidents in remodeling an old place like this is to be expected, but it got out of hand.  Two men were hospitalized, there was a fire in the Green Room that could have destroyed the entire structure if one of the crew hadn't spotted the smoke, and, when I brought in the actors for the opening, the equipment began to fail – sandbags dropping from the scaffolding…"  He paused, jabbing the key into the lock and twisting it.  "Then the strange lights began appearing, props disappeared…  A couple of the people have even seen figures moving around the balcony.  That's why I ran this contest and offered twenty-five hundred dollars if someone could spend the entire night.  The problems might be caused by someone who'd rather we didn't open, and quite frankly, I want to know one way or the other, and soon.  We only have five weeks to go and my people are afraid to work."

Nick snorted.  "Well, I'll tell you, Mister Rothbottom, we won't be leaving early, and that's a promise."

"That's right," Murray concurred.  "If this is the work of a paranormal entity, why, the scientific importance alone would be enough to make us stay and study–"

"Uh, Murray, I'm sure Mister Rothbottom wants to get this over with," Cody interrupted, saving the man from an extended lecture on the world of supernatural phenomena.

"Oh.  Oh, yes, I'm sorry," the theater owner said.  He glanced down at the cases Murray carried.  "I see you brought some equipment."

"Yes, you see, I'm something of an expert with computers and I rigged up an oscillating–"

"A ghost Geiger counter," Cody quickly translated.

"And we have flashlights, and guns, too" Nick added ominously.

Cody slid his partner a disapproving glance.

"That's all fine, just fine," Rothbottom said, waving his hand.  "All I ask is, do as little damage to the building as possible, but I want this stopped."

"We'll do our best," Murray assured him sincerely.

The police officers exited the building, the last nodding over his shoulder and saying, "It's all clear.  If there's anyone in there now, they _must_ be ghosts."

"Thank you," Rothbottom said, then turned his attention back to the detectives.  "Well, if you'll go on in, I'll lock the door.  No one has a key, except myself.  I'm staying at the El Monte hotel just down the street.  I'll be back tomorrow morning, unless of course you call me on the cellular phone, in which case I'll come right down and let you out.  It'll take me about ten minutes.  However, understand that that means you will have forfeited all claim on the money."

The three nodded.

"Good luck, gentlemen."

"Thank you," Cody said with a half-hearted smile.  _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all_.

The three detectives stepped into the dark interior, jumping slightly as the door groaned shut behind them.  Standing in silence, they listened to the lock fall loudly into place.  Cody reached back and pulled the flashlight from his back pocket and flipped it on.

"Didn't I see this in a bad mummy movie somewhere?" Nick asked softly.

"Mummy?  You think it's a mummy, Nick?  Mummies are generally associated with Egyptian locales, but if there's a reason you think–"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**_ACT II_ ** _: Our three heroes stand just inside the main doors of the Forty-Niner Theater.  This old building is a definite must for a haunting.  The architecture looks like it's over 140 years old with lots of nice nooks and crannies to hide the wayward spooks.  The only light comes from the small flashlight Cody holds.  He directs the beam over the seats, high walls, balcony etc., then…_

 

"Cody, that's not funny, man.  Turn the flashlight back on," Nick growled.

"I'm trying, but it won't work," Cody said, slapping it against the palm of his hand.  "It's dead."

"Great, just great," the dark-haired detective said under his breath.  He shrugged the backpack off his shoulder and fumbled for the zipper.  Opening the pack, Nick reached in and rummaged for the flashlight he had packed.

"I have another one in my bag, too," Murray said, rummaging through the borrowed gym bag he carried.

Finding his, Nick removed the flashlight and shoved the switch forward.  Nothing.  "Damn, mine won't work either.  Hurry up, Murray."

"Sure gets dark in here," Cody said from the blackness.  "Really dark."

"Uh, guys, I can't find it.  And I _know_ I put it in here."

"Ole Rothbottom must've taken it out."

"Nick, why would he do that?" Cody asked, annoyed by his partner's cynical attitude.

"Because, like I've been telling you, this is all a publicity stunt.  Look, he's been setting up folks to come spend the night in a 'haunted theater.'  A theater, Cody.  He employs actors.  They're in here, someplace, and sooner or later we'll start hearing funny noises, see weird lights.  If we panic and call him, he calls the press.  When we get out there're people taking our pictures and asking us what happened and Rothbottom gets more and more people interested in the place.  You saw the newspaper articles Murray dug up on this, and we all heard what the radio's doing.  Hell, by opening night they'll have to turn people away."

"You know, you might be right," Cody admitted, somewhat reluctantly.  "Hey, where's Murray?"

Nick turned, trying to peer through the blackness.  "I don't know."

"Murray?" Cody called.

"Hey, guys, I found it!" the thin detective yelled as he flipped the breaker switch, overhead lights flooding antique wooden stage with gel-filtered blue light.  The other two men emerged from the darkness to join him.

"Oh, nice touch," Nick said sarcastically while Cody shoved the flashlight back into the bag of equipment he had brought.

"Isn't this boss?" Murray asked, craning his neck to look up at the lights.  "I always wanted to be on the stage.  You know, the thrill of an opening night, the  crowds–"

"So now what?" Nick asked with a yawn.  "I say we get some sleep while we wait for the spooks to crawl out of the woodwork."

"I suppose we could sit around and tell ghost stories," Cody quipped, eliciting a cold blue glare from his partner.

"That's a great idea, Cody!" Murray said, scurrying over to start tugging at one of the two couches that sat in the wings.

"Brilliant, really brilliant," Nick whispered hotly.

"I didn't think he'd take me seriously!" Cody whispered back.

"Oh, I did a little research on The Forty-Niner Theater and I must say, it's a great candidate for a haunting," Murray called back at them as he wrestled with the prop.  The pair moved over to help him position the overstuffed, faded monstrosity in the middle of the circle of blue light. 

"This isn't the _original_ Forty-Niner Theater.  The original was built in 1849."   Murray giggled.  "That's why it's called the Forty-Niner.  That's when the pioneers were coming out here to look for gold, in 1849, and–"

"We get it, Murray," Nick said.

The thin man shoved his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, allowing his two partners to work on moving the couch as he continued.  "Originally the theater was quite successful, until the 1890s, of course."

"Of course," Cody said, exchanging a bemused glance with Nick.  "Then what?"

"Well, during the moral reform movements that swept the county at that time the theater was burned down by some people who thought it was a source of evil and corruption."

"Sounds reasonable," Nick muttered, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Not really, Nick," Murray said, his tone taking on a somber cast.  "There were seven people rehearsing the night the theater was burned.  They were all killed."

"Then they rebuilt the Forty-Niner later?" Cody asked.

"Yes, in the 1920s, but it was plagued by accidents and finally closed again in 1929 after the stock market crash.  It stood empty until 1949 when it was bought by Charles Hawthorne.  He fixed it up and tried to run it, but after two actors were injured no one would work here and it closed again in 1952.  It's been just sitting here until Mister Rothbottom bought it this year and started to renovate it.  Now the interesting thing is, I've read that people who suffer violent ends are often unable to accept their death and become attached to the location–"

"Are you telling me that the ghosts of those seven people are still here?  That they're the ones who're trying to stop the Forty-Niner from being re-opened?"

"Well, Nick, it _is_ a possible explanation," Murray insisted.

"For you, maybe, but I think I'd rather take a look around for false walls, since you two aren't going to let me get any sleep."

Cody and Murray watched as Nick levered off the couch and headed off into the darkness back stage.

The blond looked offstage.  "I think I'll check the other side."

Murray watched Cody fade into the darkness as well.  "Well, it's clear neither of you have open minds when it comes to some of life's more interesting mysteries!" he called after them.  The blue lights flickered twice and went out.  "Guys!  That wasn't funny!  Guys?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick felt along the wall backstage, cursing himself for not fixing the flashlight first.  A sharp pain in his thigh caused him to gasp.  Thrusting out a hand to catch himself, he felt the rough surface of a heavy table.

"Guys?"  Murray voice drifted back with a cold breeze that made the detective shiver.  "Guys?"  Murray voice echoed again.

"I'm right here, Murray," Nick called.  "I'll be there in a minute."  He paused, realizing the table was no longer there.  "What the hell?"

Nick turned and walked directly into the table again.

"Ouch!"  He reached out, only to feel the same knobby surface.

Keeping one hand on the table, Nick turned around as far as he could, then removed his hand and stepped forward, running into the table for a third time.

"Damn it!"

"Here, let me help you."

Nick jumped at the sound of a woman's voice.  His eyes, adjusted to the almost total darkness, allowed him to make out the vague feminine figure moving towards him.

"Who are you, lady?  One of Rothbottom's actresses?"

"Call me Molly.  If you'll follow me, I'll take you back to Murray."

"Yeah, sure."  He felt her reach out and take his hand in hers.  Her skin was cold.  _Like ice_ , he thought.  _Like a–_

_No!  I'm not going to start buying into this whole ghost and goblins thing!_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody froze as the light abruptly faded.  "Great," he breathed.

Extending his arms out in front of his body as far as he could, the detective inched forward until he touched the back of one of the bolted down theater chairs.  The realization gave him a start.  Hadn't he been walking away from the chairs when the lights went off?

A cold breeze brushed the back of his neck and Cody ground his teeth together to keep them from chattering.  He turned and started forward, running abruptly into the chairs again.

 _Okay, this is making me mad, now_ , the blond detective thought to himself.  He placed his heels together and executed a perfect about face maneuver.

 _If I ran into the chairs before, then this has to be the way back to the stage_.  He stepped forward, confident he was clear, then yelled as he strode straight into the chairs, tumbling over the row to land in a tangle of arms and legs on the other side.

"Cody?" Murray cried.  "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he called back, glad the darkness hid his disheveled appearance as he dragged himself up.  "I'm, uh, kind of trapped over here."

"Trapped?"

"I'm sort of lost in the seats, Murray.  Try and find the light switch."

"Here, let me help you."

Cody fell back into the space between the chairs as a woman's hand reached out and touched his shoulder.  "Who are you?" he asked as she took a firmer grip and pulled him to his feet.  Her hands were cold, really cold.

"Call me Molly.  If you'll follow me, I'll take you back to Murray."

"How'd you get in here?"

"I got 'em," Nick called.  The dark-haired detective shoved the main switch back and forward again.  Nothing.  "Great," he sighed.  "Nothing, it won't work.  Looks like we're stuck in the dark.  Murray, keep talking so Cody and I can find you."

"Oh, okay, Nick, let's see, I'll tell you some more about the theater.  In the 1920s they…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick pressed back into the sofa cushions, trying to get comfortable.  He reached down and poked the light button on his digital watch.  "Oh, this is great," he said, shaking his wrist.  "My watch isn't working either."

Cody looked at his own and tapped the face.  "I don't get it, mine's dead, too."

"Did you have to put it that way?" Nick asked.

Murray giggled.  "Ah, come on, you guys, Mister Rothbottom will come get us in the morning.  We don't need to know what time it is since we're not leaving.  Look, why don't I see if I can get the flashlights to work.  Tell me about the girl again.  Maybe she's the ghost that's been–"

"Murray, that was no ghost.  She was very… physical," Cody interrupted.

"Well, I want to get my equipment set up.  I need to place sensors in different locations around the theater so I can get overlapping fields for the receptors to work off of."

"Good idea, Boz," Cody said.  "We can try to find some other lights that'll work, too."

Nick sighed and pushed off the couch.  "Lead on, McDuff."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The three men began in the backstage area.  Murray fumbled in the dark until he was sure the meter was set properly and working.  Nick and Cody searched for the main fuse box with no luck.  Then they moved into the Green Room.

"Hey, I found the breakers," Nick called.  "They feel fine to me.  It's not the breakers.  I guess we're just in the dark."

"In the dark…"  Murray giggled at the pun.  "That's very good, Nick.  In the dark, we're in–"

"We know, Murray," the pair chorused together.

"You finished?" Cody asked.

"Yes, I–"  Murray was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps, moving across the stage.

"What'd I tell you?" Nick asked in a soft hiss.  "Time for the funny noises."

The meter Murray held beeped quietly.  "Oh, wow," he said.  "That must be a _real_ ghost."

"Oh come on," Nick said under his breath.  "Probably one of Molly's fellow actors."

"Hey, look at that," Cody said, pointing uselessly toward the balcony in the dark.  However, his partners had already seen the eerie green globe that had emerged from one corner of the balcony only to roll slowly across the space.

"That does it," Nick growled, launching himself in the direction of the main stage.

"Nick, wait, remember the last time–"

"I'm going up there and find out who's yanking our chains."

The two remaining detectives listened as Nick made his way up the aisle, his footsteps fading in the thick carpet as he neared the main doors.

The heavy footsteps started up again in the Green Room this time and louder than before.  Cody swiveled around on the couch to peer through the darkness.  "I'm going to go check that out."

"Uh, Cody," Murray said softly.  "I hate to say it, but, I'm a little scared."

"Don't worry, Nick and I are both close enough that we can get back in a hurry if we have to.  Find the couch, sit down and stay there.  If anything happens, just yell."

"Okay," the smaller man said unenthusiastically.

"I'll be right back."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick paused at the foot of the stairs that lead up to the balcony.  A bitter cold settled in around him, stinging his face like pinpricks of ice.  He rubbed the back of his neck, took a deep breath and forced himself to climb the stairs into a deepening cold.

Reaching the top of the flight, Nick felt along the wall, hoping to locate some sort of light switch, but there were none to be found.  The green globe was stationary now, floating just off center to the left.  The dark-haired detective studied the ball intently.  It cast no shadow, seemed to have no visible support and somehow seemed aware that he was there, looking at it.

Nick shook his head.  _Aware?  Come on, Ryder, get a grip.  You're acting like a ten-year-old on Halloween.  Magicians make things like this look real all the time, but there's a trick to it, and damn it, there's a trick to this, too_.  He took a step toward the globe, ready to tackle it if necessary.

It promptly blinked out.

"What the hell?" Nick said aloud.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Murray watched as Nick's shadowy outline appeared in the balcony.  The glow from the green orb was just bright enough to allow him to make out the figure of his friend.  Nick stopped to study the object, then stepped toward it and the glow vanished.

Murray jumped.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody walked carefully through the blackness toward the green room.  He remembered the floor plan that Rothbottom had shown them at his office.  But thinking about the floor plans tickled Cody memory.  _Something's wrong_ , he thought.  _But damned if I know what it is_.

He continued on, hoping he wasn't drifting in the blackness.

 _The blackness!  It's too dark!_ he realized.

The floor-plans showed that there were small windows scattered throughout the theater.  Rothbottom had explained that they were there since the building had originally doubled as a meeting hall.  But if there were windows, why wasn't there more light filtering in from the outside?  _There was a full moon two days ago_ , he remembered.

Cody's thoughts were cut off as he stepped into the brick wall that marked the back of the theater.  Rebounding slightly, he extended his arms and felt along the wall until he found the door to the green room.  Gripping the handle, he turned and pulled the door open.  A cold draft enveloped him immediately and the blond fought back a shiver.  "Jesus," he said softly, stepping into the equally dark interior. _Nothing.  Just like the theater_.

He turned, startled as the door fell shut behind him.  A cold hand descended on his arm…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick stumbled slightly in the pitch black, trying to locate the back of the last row of chairs in order to get his bearings.  Finally touching the soft velvet-like material, he planted his feet firmly and mentally kicked himself for the surge of panic that had swept though him.

A cold hand reached out, taking hold of his wrist and destroying the indifferent façade he had built…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Murray grew more and more anxious as he waited alone on the couch.  The ghost detector beeped steadily in the darkness, the speed slowly increasing.

"Uh, guys?" he called out softly.  When there was no answer he increased the pitch.  "Nick?  Cody?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick heard Murray's faint voice, followed by the more forceful call of his name.  "Up–  Up here, Murray," he called down.  At the same time he reached up to press his free hand down over the one holding his wrist, trapping it in a vice-like hold he'd used on prisoners while he was an MP.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Please," a young woman's voice said.  "You have to leave, before something bad happens."

"Look, lady, I don't know who you are, but we aren't leaving until morning, and all this sneaking around in the dark, making noises and playing with funny lights isn't gonna chase us off."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Murray's voice drifted past the closed door, an unintelligible mumble.  Cody ignored it as he lunged away from the cold hand on his arm.  "Hey, who the hell are you?" he snapped.

"Please," said Molly.  "You have to leave, before something bad happens."

"Bad?  Like what?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Nick!  Cody!  Guys?  Help!"

Murray gripped the arm of the couch and held on for all he was worth as the heavy structure began to shake, the wooden legs hammering against the hardwood stage floor.

As the couch began a more violent bucking the thin man's panicked cries climbed in pitch and intensity.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick squinted in the darkness, wishing he could see what was wrong with Murray.  Whatever it was, it must be bad.  He tried to hold onto the woman's hand, but it slipped through his grip.

"Hey!"  He stepped forward, groping for the girl, but all he found was the wall.  Feeling along the rough surface, he followed it to the door and quickly headed down the stairs.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody stumbled toward where he thought the door was.  Feeling along the newly plastered wall, he found the bar and pushed.  At first he didn't think it was going to move, but then the door sprang open and he tumbled out, only to be engulfed in the loud, erratic hammering coming from the stage.

"Murray?"

"Cody!?" Murray called back, his voice a high squeak.  "Cody, help!"

The blond detective made his way as fast as he could to join his partner on the stage.  "What's going on?"

"The couch!" the smaller man yelled.  "It's jumping all over the place!  Cody, the ghost detector is going crazy.  Tell them to stop!  I don't want to hurt them!"

"Tell _who_ , Murray?  Can you see someone?"

"No!"

Cody shrugged.  It sounded as reasonable as anything else.  Besides, the couch sounded like it was getting closer.  "Hey, whoever you are, stop it, you're scaring my friend," he said loudly and with as much authority as he could muster.

"Yeah, knock it off or we'll start using the guns we brought," Nick growled as he joined them on the stage.

The couch bounced several more times, then stopped.

"Oh, wow, thanks, you guys," Murray panted.  "I was getting a little scared.  I though we'd go over the edge or–"

"Murray, did you see anyone?" Cody asked.

"No, but–"

"Did anyone touch you?" Nick interrupted.

"Huh, no, but–"

"Did anyone say anything?"

"No, but–"

"Did–"

"But it was _cold_ ," Murray finally managed to squeeze in.

The two detectives fell silent.

"Why?  What happened to you?  Did you hear the meter?  It was going crazy!  There must've been a real ghost, lots of ghosts, who–"

"Murray, ghosts don't grab your arm," Cody said.

"And talk to you," Nick added.

"Why not?"

"Huh?" Nick responded.

"Why not?  They have energy, Nick.  They can manifest in various physical ways according to the research.  There have been several reported cases of people being touched, poked, spoken to, and the like.  Were you poked?"

"No, I was grabbed," Nick said flatly.

"You were?" Cody asked.  "Where?"

Nick scowled at his friend.  "My wrist.  Whatdaya think?"

Cody fought back a grin.  "I wasn't sure."

"And they talked to you again?" Murray asked.

Cody paused, wondering if he really was starting to believe the place was haunted.  He felt along the back of the couch.  It seemed like it was stationary, at least for the time being, so he sat down.  "Yeah, yeah, she did."

"She?" Nick asked.

"She.  It was Molly again.  She sounds about sixteen or seventeen years old."

"Yeah, same here."

"They talked to you, too, Nick?"

"Not 'they,' Murray.  Molly."

"Yeah," Cody agreed.  "She said that we had to leave before something bad happened."

"Hmm," Murray said, his expression turning thoughtful.

"I didn't like the sound of it either," Cody admitted.

"Is that what she said, exactly?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"That's exactly what she said to me, too, and–"

"Oh, that's boss!  You had a simultaneous manifestation!"

"Huh?" the pair chorused.

"You had the same conversations, at the same time, but in different places."

"That's impossible," Nick said, shaking his head.

"Not for a ghost."

"I'm just thrilled," Nick muttered, working his way over to join the other two men on the couch.  "Is this thing okay now?"

"I think so," Cody told him.

"Well, I know what we have to do," Murray declared.

"Are you going to tell us?" Cody asked after they sat in silence for several moments.

"Oh, sorry," Murray apologized.  "I was just thinking how lucky you guys are. It isn't everybody who gets to talk to ghosts, you know."

"Just tell us how we get rid of them," Nick said, trying to keep his temper in check.

"You have to explain to Molly that she's dead and there's no reason for her to stay here in the theater anymore.  She can go on."

"Where's she supposed to go?" Nick asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

Murray hesitated.  "Well, I don't know, exactly.  I mean, there are a lot of places–"

"There are?" Cody interrupted.

"Well, it depends on your metaphysical and spirituall–"

"Do you mean, like heaven?"

"Yes, Nick, that could be one option, and since she is an American ghost that would probably be what she'd be most familiar with, yes."

"Let me get this straight," Nick said.  "We're supposed to tell this girl that she ought to just go on and go to heaven?"

"Well, yes.  She might not know she can.  Tell her that a lot of time has passed, and that times are different now."

"This is getting a little weird, Murray," Cody said.

"Yeah, can't you do it?" Nick asked.  "I mean, wouldn't that be enough, you saying it like this?"

"I don't think so.  She seems able to manifest with you and that's what you need to tell her."

"You mean we have to go out there again?" Cody asked, sounding unhappy.

"Yes."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The two detectives stood midway up the aisle, waiting for something to happen.

"I don't know about this," Nick said softly.

"What?  Talking to ghosts?"

"No, having Murray around all the time.  I mean, I like the little guy, but he's, well, weird sometimes, you know?"

"I know what you mean, but we need him, Nick.  You know how badly we were doing before."

"It wasn't _this_ bad."

"Yes, it was."

"Maybe it was, but he's going to drive me crackers with all this ooga-booga stuff."

Cody smiled.  "He'll grow on you."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You really want to ask him to leave?"

Nick thought for a moment.  "No.  It would be, oh, I don't know, quiet, without him around."

"Exactly."

The two detectives stood for a few minutes longer before they heard Murray calling them.  "What is it, Boz?" Cody replied.

"Has anything happened?"

"Naw, nothing," Nick called back.

"Maybe you should move apart.  That's how it's happened in the past."

"Great," Nick said under his breath.

"Into the breech, as they say," Cody said, giving his partner a supportive slap on the shoulder.

"Very funny."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nick made his way back to the balcony and stood, trying to locate Cody in the murky darkness below.  The cold began to build.

 _Oh boy, here we go_ , he thought.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Cody wasn't exactly sure where he was in the seats, but at least he was clear on the fact that he was between two rows of chairs.

 _No more tumbles for this detective_ , he thought.

The rising cold breeze halted his slow shuffle.

 _Here we go_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Molly?"  Nick called softly.

"Yes?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"I have something that I have to tell you," Cody said.

"To tell me?  You have to leave.  Before something bad happens."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Nothing bad is going to happen to us.  Molly, do you know you're dead?"

The fuzzy outline of the young woman seemed to draw back defensively.  "You have to go."

"You and your friends died in the 1890s.  It's all…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"…different now," Cody explained.  "People don't think theater and theater people are bad now.  You don't have to try and protect the people here."

"Protect?" she echoed.  The outline grew more pronounced and Cody could make out the pile of long blond hair, several strands falling about her heart-shaped face.  However, it was the clothing that caught his attention.  It was period, all right, at least, it wasn't like anything that he had ever seen girls wearing during his lifetime.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Molly, my friend says that you're dead and you should think about going on."

"Where?"

"I don't know, heaven, I guess, but Mister Rothbottom would prefer if you'd try someplace other than his theater," Nick said, feeling stupid.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"You really don't have to stay.  It's respectable to belong in the theater, now.  Hollywood could use some help, but theaters are okay."

"I–  I guess I've known for a while that we didn't belong here anymore, but the others, they need me."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"The others?" the dark-haired detective asked in spite of himself.

"Ruth and Edith, Paul, Jason, Abe, and little Tim."

"They were the others who were killed?" 

_Oh, man, I don't think I'm up to doing this speech six more times…_

"Yes, we were killed.  There was a fire."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"And you've been trying to make sure no one else is hurt.  You and the others?"

"Yes.  We didn't want others to be hurt."

"But don't you realize that in trying to help them, you've hurt some people?" Cody asked.

"Hurt?"

"Yeah, there were several people who were injured, not badly."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"I didn't know."

"I know," Nick told her.

_I can't believe I'm doing this.  Standing here talking to a ghost.  Even I'm starting to believe this!  That little guy is going to really drive me nuts yet!_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"It's time for you to leave," Cody said.  "Do you think you can get the others to go?"

"Yes, I think so."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"That's good." 

_Boy, is that good.  Let her do it.  Ghosts should talk to ghosts.  Real people just aren't cut out for this kinda thing…  What am I saying?_

"Yes.  It will be good to leave.  It's been so long and I feel… tired?"

Nick smiled.  She was a very pretty girl.  If she were a ghost and went to heaven, she'd make a good angel.

"Have a good…"  He paused, searching for the right word.  "Uh, opening night, I guess, wherever you go."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Thank you," she said.

"Good journey," Cody said as he watched her slowly fade into the darkness.  He jumped slightly as the filtered lights above the stage switched on.

"Nick?"

"Yeah, I'm up here," Ryder called from the balcony.  "Did she go?"

"I think so.  I mean, she sorta faded away."

"Yeah, here, too," Nick said quietly.  "Weird."

_Too weird.  Ultra weird!_

"Huh, guys?" Murray called.

"Yeah?" Cody called.

"I found my flashlight.  It works."

"I'll bet they all do," Nick said as he walked up to join the blond.

"I think it worked," Cody said.  "I think they can finally be at peace."

"Ah, come on Cody, you don't really believe we met a real ghost, do you?"

"Don't you?"

"I'm taking the fifth, my friend."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**_ACT III_ ** _:  The three detectives spend the remainder of the night straightening up the mess they had created while strewing equipment around the building.  The lights worked, the flashlights, watches, everything… including their imaginations._

Nick yawned and watched as the first glow of dawn eased through the several small windows to fill the theater with a soft orange glow.  "Like I said, a long dull night."

Cody considered several appropriate retorts, but he was too tired to follow through and grunted instead.

"I thought it was a boss and bodacious night.  I feel very good about helping seven souls to their next reward."

"Yeah, Nick.  That'll look real good on our resumes."

"Funny, very funny."

"You believe in ghosts now, don't you?" Murray asked, eyeing the dark-haired detective intently.

"I don't know–" Nick began.

"Don't know?  Don't know?  Nick Ryder–"

"Okay, okay, Murray, take it easy.  Let just say that I'm not as skeptical as I was before."  _No offense, Molly_.

"Well, okay," Murray relented, but he didn't look convinced.

"Hey, shouldn't Rothbottom be here by now?" Cody asked.

Before his partners could reply a soft knocking sounded from the door.

"Speak of the devil," Nick said.

"Please, don't," Cody replied.  "Seven ghosts were more than enough for one lifetime."

They rose and made their way over and waited as Rothbottom unlocked the outside padlock opened the door.

"Gentlemen, congratulations!"

"Thanks," Nick said around another yawn.  "I told you we wouldn't leave.  When do we get paid?"

A couple of reporters stepped up to join them.  "Did anything happen?" one asked.

"Was the theater haunted?" another pressed.

"Well, it appears that–" Murray began.

Cody grabbed his arm and started toward the waiting Woody parked at the curb.  "No comment!" he called.

"Follow me back to my office and I'll write you the check," Rothbottom said, smiling broadly.

"Great.  And I don't think you'll have to worry about anything strange happening anymore," Nick told him.

"Wait, I left the gym bag inside," Murray said.  "I'll go get it." 

The three men were pelted with more questions from the reporters, which they ignored or answered with emphatic "no comments" as Murray disappeared back inside.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The thin computer expert pushed the door open and moved quickly to retrieve the waiting bag from the edge of the stage.  Snatching it up, he hugged it to his chest and hurried to join his companions.  It was going to be a good change for him.  Nick and Cody were great guys.  He was going to have real friends again.

He paused when he reached the door, looking back once more.  His brow furrowed.  Were there really people standing there? 

He watched them take a final bow and blushed when a pretty young blond woman smiled at him and waved.

"Molly…?"

The End


End file.
